Page 18 of Stretched By the Gargoyle
“Maybe.”
She whimpers and rolls her hips, riding my hand while the band starts to play their next song, a jazz number with lots of sax. I slip two fingers inside her and watch with pride and amusement as she tries to fuck them without being obvious, her nipples pebbling profusely against her cotton dress.
“You are a naughty witch,” I chuckle. She blushes. I capture her mouth, letting her lower lip linger in my teeth. “Happy Bliss Day, hummingbird. I love you.”
“I l-l-love you t-too—ohhhh,” she mutters incoherently as I add a third finger and swirl her clit with my thumb, just as the server approaches with a soft cough.
“Leave them on the table, thank you, Damion,” I say without looking away from theveryobvious orgasm on Ari’s face.
The server scurries away and Ari’s orgasm twitches to conclusion. I lift my fingers to my mouth and suck them clean.
“You’re everything to me,” I tell her truthfully. “I’ll spend the rest of my days making you cum for me, in public, in our home, anywhere you wish. If you’ll have me.”
“There’s nothing else I wish in the whole world.”
THE END.
∞∞∞
